So as I said, I went to this grad party. More like I tagged along, meaning I asked for what my eyes saw that night. *Note to self*- No gate crashing of random grad/birthday/whatever you may call it party with anybody. Lessons learnt.

Ok it wasnt bad all.

Basically, the graduand is African, Sierra Leonan or Congolose, not too sure and she went to the same secondary school as the person I tagged along with. We got there at about 9ish and the party was still bubbling with family friends, kids everywhere. Food was in abundance, not that I could have much of it though cos there was rice that tried hard to look like jollof rice but didnt quite make it and their other ethnic food. There was no way I was eating anything apart from fish and chicken. I'm bad with experimenting food... sometimes I guess its good for me as a very angry stomach is not something I can deal with.

So anyways I didn't know anyone there apart from the person I tagged along with, who was busy chatting away, so I was left alone, with nothing to do but observe...which I gladly did.

What did I see?

A lady between size 18 and 20 dressed in a red halter neck top, white shorts, red heels. She had very dark skin which was equally pancaked with very dark powder. She had silver or grey eye-shadow on and rather long fake lashes. She had very glossy lips, I couldnt tell if it was the oil from the food she'd just eaten or she had some serious gloss on that even eating wouldnt clean off. But what was peculiar about her? Ok lets start this way, I have nothing against plus size women, as a size 14 myself ( I like to claim 12 sometimes), I know what its like being pushed to the plus end of the scale, however, seeing as I'm a bit conscious of how I look, I think I pay more attention to what suits me, which I think this young (not more that 23 year old) lady didnt do. Her stomach was hanging over her shorts, needless to say she had bronze hair glued to her face as an excuse for a fringe and stetch marks that were in different shades of brown. The weirdest part was that she is really hairy all the way to her back and its either she had bronze/brown hair or the lighting at the party made it seem so. But dear Lord, it was freaky and I thought to myself, now I dont blame those who go for full body waxing nor the guys who frown at it cos believe me its not a very nice sight...at all!!! I was cringing and I begged for forgiveness everytime I had to cringe.

To make matters worse for me, she was with this another lady, a few years older who was probably another 2 sizes bigger than she was. She had a short black dress on and fish net tights or whatever those tights with holes in them are called. What she did wrong? she sat with her legs wide open, with all her not-to-be-publicly-seen assets in full view. I felt VIOLATED! Ewwwwwwwwwwwww sheesh. I think I'll stop there on that one!

The less traumatising ones are the men. Oh those ones were funny. From the ones in funny coloured suits, ranging from gold (once again) to red. The funniest one, was this old man on bronze coloured trousers, a blue shirt and an even funnier tie. His tie had sonic the hedgehog on it, along with the rest of the characters...knuckles and tails. (Yes I know them. I live with kids) and then it was tied half way, plus he was walking so daintly possibly for fear of not creasing his outfit! That made me burst into fits of laughter and I thought wow...people still do these?

I think the best part of my evening was the people watching...I'd love to do that again..well apart from seeing -not-to-be-publicly-seen parts of the body...I think I'll pass on that!!

The day of the surgery is here. You are all packed and headed for the hospital. The letter says you should get to the hospital for 7am. The surgery could be at anytime that morning.

At the reception of 'day surgery' waiting patiently...

"Mrs A."...the nurse calls out. You both walk into the changing room, she hands you a hospital robe and a pair of socks. "Please change into these, and I'll see you to your bed". Changing in that cold room makes it even harder to concentrate...anxiety is about the break the scale.

Getting to the bed, the nurse comes over with a clipboard..asking questions."Have you eaten anything this morning?"No (Duhhh, I was told not to)She carries on till she gets to the bottom of the clip board.

"Ok" she says... you will be seen to the ultrasounds for one more scan and markings and then the anaesthesiologist.

Very well. Another trip for ultrasound scans and have them use a black marker to map out where what will be cut open.

In the ultrascound room. The lady keeps going over and over the same spot. She is trying to make conversation, but she isnt even concentrating... so she is starting to sound like a child who's learning to string a correct sentence.

"So, how"....long stare into the screen, nose up into the air, trying to look through the glasses sitting at the tip of the nose

6 seconds later

"Are you today?"

"Fine thanks. Is there a problem?"

"Just a second please"..She walks out and returns with a colleague. They both stare at the screen. The other one says, "Yes I think you are right" and then turns around to say, "Hi there, Mrs A, sorry about this, we'll just have to send you upstairs for further scans ok. It wont take too long". You will have your MRI done in no time

Upstairs. It wont take too long in in their dictionary is another half an hour wait. Cold feet!

An hour later, the doctor comes in.

"Hello my dear, how are you today"?

"Fine thank you, is there any problem? I seem to have gone through a few scans today"

"Yes, basically we needed to be sure about a few things and the scan is the best way to do that. From our findings, you have what is called an aneurysm. A brain aneurysm, or cerebral aneurysm, is the weakening in the wall of a blood vessel or artery in the brain. If it ruptures, it can be fatal. Fortunately, we have caught it really early, so we will have to persorm the operation as soon as possible. Your surgery won't be a day surgery anymore. So we will have to admit you today and book you in for the surgery at the very latest, tomorrow morning. In the mean time, we will keep regular checks on you just to ensure that we do not have any problems".

Here in England, we register with a local doctor (your residence has to be within a certain radius in order to use that particular one), it's like a little clinic- like mine is run by a couple who are both doctors, they have a few nurses and receptionists. When you have a problem, you call the 'surgery', tell them you need to see the doctor, they book you in. If you are VERY lucky, you get an appointment, if not, you have to wait for a few days. Then you go to the doctor, tell him/her you think you have this problem, let's say a headache-it's been very consistent. They assess you, with their hands (to check your temperature -ok thats not true), then with their mouths by asking you so many questions, you'd think you just walked into a murder interrogation where you were both the victim and the suspect.

Where this doctor thinks he has it covered, he prescribes medicine for you, because you've consumed all the paracetamol and Nurofen that you can buy without a doctor's prescription. You go and fork out your £6 an hour salary to pay for the medicine. A few weeks later, you come back to complain that the medicine you spent a day's wage on doesn't work, and to top it up, the headache gives you a sharp pain that often messes with your sight

Then he refers you to a REAL doctor. Now that's the doctor at the hospital ( The big building with wards where people are recovering and rooms where women are pushing out babies). By referral, it means you go home, he calls the REAL doctor at the hospital, tells them he is sending you over, then the REAL doctor books you in for an appointment to check you AGAIN! Unfortunately, this whole process is with the NHS (free medical treatment), so your appointment with the REAL doctor might be fictitious till at least a month later when you receive a letter in the post from the REAL doctor telling you to come for an appointment in another month. If my calculation is right, you don't get to see the REAL doctor at the HOSPITAL till 2 months after you have seen the doctor at the surgery.

*Its getting rather long, shey?* If you had a mole that was slowly eating up your skin, you'd be dead, buried and your will would have been read and your assets distributed by the time you were meant to see the REAL doctor.

Other options are available though- You go to a private doctor who will see you and assess you immediately- well in a few days- but be ready to fork out part of your £700 a day salary (yes that's where the difference is) or better still, **go to A&E with something that looks like a mosquito bite and tell them you think its a malignant tumour, but after you get there, you are made to understand that you have just come there to display your stupidity and ignorance because what you have is indeed a bite from some insect and its in no way a tumour, let alone a malignant one.

Please be aware that these are rare and extreme cases and in no way demonstrate anyone's display at the A&E.**

After you get to see the REAL doctor, then he does proper tests (of which take place on different days), two things might happen, although both of them involve bad news.1. The doctor will tell you that you about some abnormal swelling in your head and that due to the long period of time it has taken for you to come and see them, it has reached a critical stage and all they can do for you is to admit you and give you pain relief till THE day comes.

2. He will tell you what the swelling is about, but lucky for you, its not so bad, but you will need to have an operation to get it fixed. He could then say its going to be a 'day's' job. You have the surgery in the morning, you go home later in the evening.

Your mind is at rest...you are patiently waiting for the day you get the surgery.

Ask me why? Cos we know how to have fun. Give a Nigerian a few people to hang out with, he is laughing his head off whilst his cheeks hurt. Add an iPod and an iPod dock and the party is rolling out.

I went to my friends birthday a while ago . A little gathering with family and friends and I had more fun than another person would have in a club. Suffice to say that most of them were medi-lag students who are here doing a masters coincidentally at the same uni again, you can imagine the atmosphere. They all laughed and joked, I laughed so hard, you would think I went to medilag with them and I wasn't at least 6 years younger than them. The atmosphere was nothing like the one I hear about in clubs where everyone can see into everyone else's nostrils because they all have their noses up in the air.

Brings me to ask, why do we do so? Is it that it's a generation thing? Cos theirs seem a bit more friendly than mine.

Why have we decided that we want to show how much better than the other person we are?

Here's an example. My friends went to a BBQ last year or the a few years ago that was organized by a QC babe, so obviously most of her guests were QC babes who came with their friends or boyfriends. I heard the reception was so bad that people weren't mingling. They all stood around in their little cliques, assessing the other from the type of hair extension on their heads to the nail polish on their toe nails. People felt intimidated by their own peers. and couldnt even have fun as a group.I'm not saying anything about QC babes, please don't get me wrong ( I'm not one of those school bashing people). I'm just using this as an example because QC girls are large in number, so they can easily have an effect on a gathering, especially when the majority of them there are from the same school. If it were mine, the reverse would be the case. Not because we dont adopt this nose in the air attitude but because my school was quite small and you just had to be friends with everyone, even down to the juniors.

So I ask, why are we so rigid and narrow minded? It baffles me. Would people like to explain this to me? Cos I want to be under the impression that its because they are so many in their school, they feel the need to stand out of the crowd. Agreed.But what is not agreed is that, this behaviour is only typical of those whom puberty is still messing with their brains. So why do we, young adults, who are no longer teenagers display this abhorrent attitude?

If you are with apple (i.e you use the Iphone or Ipod touch), then you are with me.If not. I beg your pardon. I just needed the post to sound a bit intelligent.Considering I spent the whole of yesterday reading scribbles' blog (of which I'm not done yet) and went to bed feeling intimidated by his eloquence and coherence, I still feel good cos its a new week. Although I'm still a bit scared to go back for fear that I might just wallow in misery for the rest of the day. But I have some learning to keep me busy...*In your face scribbles*

If you happen to have X and Y chromosomes, this might be a bit too graphic for you!

*You have been warned*

Growing up, I was made to understand that I was one of the lucky ones. Now, it looks like my luck has changed.

I started my menstrual period when I was quite young, about 12 I think, although some people claim to have been younger. Imagine seeing Aunty Flo ( as Buttercup) would call it at age 9? Ha my God!!! Even at 12, it still felt very weird and cringe worthy.Anyways, my mother used to tell me that I was very lucky because I never had menstrual pains like my sister whose world usually stood still for that 5-7day period every month. She would wail, cry, wobble (because she couldnt stand straight, as her legs would give way) and generally just break down. But now that she is a mother, its all stopped (I have no idea what the explanation for that is).That used to scare my mom and I think she prayed hard that the rest of her kids would not have to go through the same thing. One woman, four girls...I dont want to imagine the pain she herself went through for my older ones.

So instead of the usual stomach pains, back pains, all my body did was to swell...as in PUMP up like a balloon. As naive as I was, I never noticed, for months until my mother would ask me such questions like, what have you been doing with your pocket money, eating junk abi or its either you are on your period. Apparently, when I've had too much sweets and junk in general, my body bloats...according to my mother sha! So over the years, my feet and breasts especially would swell and indicate that madam was on her way. Now, those were the good times.

This time, the story has changed!The reverse is the case.

A few months ago, it started. This unbearable pain in my lower abdomen. God, I cried my eyes out, it was even worse at uni, when there was no one to help me! Then back home during the hols when my sister actually saw me in pain, she joined me in crying and asked me several questions, like "Please tell me, what have you done? What happened?" She was thinking along the lines of sex, contraceptives or maybe even abortion. Me too I cried my responses back at her, nothing o...nothing. That was the beginning of my monthly sorrows.It didnt end there. Now, my legs have started to give way. As in the pain is enormous. The best way, I can say it is in yoruba when you say "ese nro mi" and then there is "ese n dun mi"...thats where the difference is. The latter sounds like you've done something to the leg, may be bumped into a wall or done too much exercise that it hurts. But the former is as though the pain is flowing through your blood stream. Its inexplicable.

To worsen the case, my sister said to me "pele, just bear it, cos when you get pregnant, thats the same way it'll hurt"Ha??? Mo gbe! Why is she telling me this now? Now that I've been bumping into so many pregnancy and child birth stories, that I'm beginning to think....hmmm??? Do I really want to go through this?